Something Covered in Chocolate
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: Kurt hates Valentine's Day, and on his and Sebastian's first Valentine's Day together, he tells Sebastian so. But when Kurt wakes up alone on February 14th, he realizes he might have just made the biggest, most insensitive mistake of their relationship. Kurtbastian. Kurt H. Sebastian S.
**Not as angsty as the summary sounds. Actually cute and fluffy, with some sexy thrown in at the end. Warning for mention of Blaine.**

 **Written as a one-shot for my Deliver Me verse, but can be read on its own as it makes no mention of the original story. Takes place some time during Special Delivery.**

Kurt never expected to wake up in bed alone, especially not on Valentine's Day. He yawned and stretched, limbs popping and cracking, stiff muscles straining nearly to the point of painful before he recoiled and climbed back beneath his down comforter, the cold morning air nipping at his exposed skin until he tucked himself in tight. Kurt lay quietly and listened for any sign that Sebastian was still at home. He didn't hear the shower running, or the coffee maker bubbling. Without leaving his bed, Kurt knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was absolutely and utterly alone. He breathed in deep, the shrouding winter chill stinging his lungs, then let out a long, disappointed sigh. He felt a little foolish even being disappointed. Wasn't Kurt the one who had told Sebastian not to bother with Valentine's Day? Sebastian was such a hopeless romantic all the time anyway, and besides, Kurt didn't need a special day dictating when and how they showed their love for one another. He'd always thought of Valentine's Day as an excuse to sell cards and candy on a holiday. In fact, he found Valentine's Day to be downright abhorrent.

The last time Kurt had had a boyfriend on Valentine's Day – one who loved him, at least - was during the Blaine era, and he preferred not to dwell on that. Like he told Sebastian yesterday, Valentine's Day was just another, ordinary day as far as he was concerned. He would go out the day after when everything went on clearance and get himself something covered in chocolate. Sebastian had frowned at that, but didn't press. Kurt closed his eyes and recalled the exact look on Sebastian's face – the downturn at the corner of his mouth, the way that frown echoed in his usually smiling eyes. It hadn't occurred to Kurt at the time that maybe Sebastian had been looking forward to their first Valentine's Day together, and Kurt had simply dismissed it. He cursed at himself for being so stupid. He pulled apart his cocoon of warmth and climbed out, the thought of an upset Sebastian wandering around New York City alone the only thing strong enough to pry him out of bed.

Kurt had no idea where to begin looking. Sebastian could be out on a run, or maybe he went to the market. Usually he left Kurt a handwritten note, or a text message. Could he have been so upset that he didn't leave him anything this time around? The thought made Kurt's heart sink straight into his stomach.

Kurt looked on every counter, every end table, trying to find his cell phone. He had the bright idea to call it, but with no other phone in the apartment, that plan turned out to be a bust. After combing every flat surface twice and still finding no clue to Sebastian's whereabouts, Kurt decided to throw caution to the wind and comb the city, hitting the spots he and Sebastian frequented together in the hopes of running into him.

Kurt grabbed his coat from the stand by the door, slipped his arms into the sleeves, and shoved his hands into the pockets. He found his phone in the left pocket; and another hard, foreign object in the right, along with a folded piece of paper. Kurt pulled the paper and the hard object out and looked them over. In his hands he held a compact GPS unit, and a folded note with his name written on the outside in Sebastian's handwriting.

The GPS Kurt recognized from that month when Sebastian decided that geocaching would be the perfect couple activity. After collecting about three dozen partially used erasers, an old condom, and sixteen 'I Love NYC' key chains (that Kurt knew came from a kiosk outside the Empire State Building), they decided to move on to something else. Confused as to why Sebastian would leave the device in his coat pocket, he unfolded the note, smiling as he read the brief message.

 _Come find me, gorgeous._

Beneath that, Sebastian had written a set of coordinates.

Kurt grabbed their trusty geocaching trowel and left the apartment, locking the door behind him. He punched the coordinates into the GPS, following the digital compass as it whirled and beeped, leading him out of their building and in the direction of Central Park. Kurt followed his little electronic divining rod through the park. He crossed the 77th Street Stone Bridge, nodding at other geocachers, out and about, hunting down their own treasures.

Sebastian's coordinates led Kurt to a remote area of the park, probably so that he wouldn't be seen digging up whatever Sebastian had left for him (which meant it could be a sex toy, or something else equally as inappropriate), but when the red arrow lit up telling Kurt that he had reached his destination, there was no place to dig. He stood on the sidewalk beside a retaining wall and some low, thorny brush. Kurt bent over, peering into the brush, and saw something gold twinkling in the sunlight cutting through the trees. He put the GPS into his pocket, and pulled the sleeves of his coat down over his hand. He reached between the branches and the thorns, catching his coat once or twice before his hand came in contact with the gold item. He grabbed the edge and tugged, surprised by the lengthy, narrow box that Sebastian had managed to wedge under the bushes for him to find. Kurt had seen boxes like this one before. They were the kind florists put long stemmed roses in. Kurt smiled, bouncing on his heels with excitement. Sebastian always bought him the most beautiful roses, but the box felt mysteriously light in his arms. He flipped open the lid and his smile fell.

The box was empty except for another folded piece of paper with his name on it. Kurt picked out the note and put the lid back on the box, setting it aside on the wall. He unfolded the note and read the short message.

 _You said you didn't want roses._

Beneath the message was another set of coordinates.

Perplexed as to why Sebastian would lead him to an empty box, Kurt tossed it in a nearby trash and headed on his not so merry way, wondering what his boyfriend had up his sleeves.

He typed in the new coordinates and the digital compass spun once, pointing in the direction of a spot Kurt knew so well that he didn't need the device to direct him. This time, Kurt didn't dilly dally around. He walked with a purpose, speeding down windy paths till he reached Wagner Cove, and the rustic wooden structure at the corner of The Lake that served as his oasis of calm once upon a time. The GPS led him right up to the structure, and beneath his feet he saw a small mound of disturbed earth. Kurt thought it looked fairly shallow, and he was right. One shovel full of dirt unearthed a jewelry store ring box, but Kurt knew that it was going to be empty as well, if for no other reason than Sebastian wouldn't bury an expensive piece of jewelry in the park where anyone could find it. Kurt opened the box and found another note.

He had a feeling he knew what this one was going to say.

 _You said you didn't want jewelry or gifts._

He inputted the coordinates from this note into the GPS and watched the compass spin. He set off again, but this time he didn't have to go too far, his journey ending at Waldo Hutchins Bench. He searched around the base of the granite bench, but he saw no mounds of dirt, or any other clue that would point to something being buried there. He sat on the bench to think this one through, waiting for further instructions even though he didn't know _how_ he would get them. He got the idea to reach beneath the bench, hoping maybe Sebastian had attached his next clue to it somehow. He wasn't the fondest of germs, but for Sebastian, he'd manhandle a public bench and soak his hands in Purell later. He felt around carefully, his face twisting at the thought of touching grime and filth built up over years of sitting out in the elements; the leftover scrapings of ancient gum and the possibility of dog urine; until his fingers came in contact with a piece of paper taped underneath where he sat. He yanked it off and looked at it, but instead of a note, it was a sealed envelope. Kurt put the GPS down and tore through the envelope, eager at this point to reach the end of this riddle and see his Sebastian again.

He pulled a note out of the envelope, and a thin card, about the size of a credit card, tumbled out after it. He ignored the fallen card for a second in favor of reading the note.

 _You said that all you wanted was you and me together…and clearance chocolate._

Kurt laughed out loud. He read the note again, noting the lack of coordinates after, and panicked until he remembered the card sitting by his leg on the bench. Kurt picked it up and his panic disappeared.

It was a key card from The Bowery Hotel.

Kurt wasn't about to walk there. He was through running around the park alone. He pulled out his phone (noting mentally how he'd need to soak it in Purell, too) and quickly called a cab.

It only took ten minutes for the cab to show up, and less than half an hour to get to the Lower East Side, but it felt like forever for as much as Kurt needed to see Sebastian. When the cab pulled up in front of the hotel, Kurt tossed a few twenties at the driver, yelling, "Keep the change!" to soften the blow of having his fare thrown in his face. Kurt bolted through the doors of the hotel, and took the elevator to the upper levels, to the penthouse floors, where the lavish suites overlooked the city.

Kurt's heart raced in his chest, and he laughed, thinking how ridiculous this was that he was so excited to see Sebastian after having not seen him for what? An hour or two? But that was par for the course since Kurt and Sebastian had established early in their relationship that spending longer than an hour away from each other was paramount to torture, so they made it a point to never do it whenever possible.

The elevator doors opened, and Kurt bolted down the hall, obsessively checking room numbers as he passed in search of the correct one. When he finally found the right room, he had to take a second to calm his shaking hands so he could use the key card correctly. The first two times swiping it, he failed. He growled at the ornery door lock, shoving the key card through the slot one more time with an exaggerated slowness. The third time was the charm, and the green light blinked. Kurt pushed down on the handle and shoved open the door. He stumbled into the living area of the suite, expecting Sebastian to greet him the moment he walked through the door.

What greeted him instead was about seven dozen lavender roses, set up in vases all over this luxurious room - on every dresser, every end table, every counter surface. On one of the end tables, beside a plush, crimson sofa, sat a pyramid of presents wrapped in festive, sparkly red, pink, and gold paper, complete with coordinating ribbon curls. Kurt bit his lower lip, wondering if Sebastian had wrapped these himself, since they looked so meticulously done. He tried to imagine Sebastian with a pair of scissors, diligently curling yards of ribbon just for him.

As excited and touched as Kurt was by all of it – the room, which was about triple the size of his first loft, and must cost upwards of a thousand dollars to rent just for the day; the roses, each one flawless in their difficult-to-come-by shade; the pile of presents, too pretty to open – he needed Sebastian, so when Sebastian walked in from the bedroom, wrapped in a fluffy white robe, skin and hair wet from a shower, Kurt raced across the room and threw himself into the man's arms.

"Oh, thank God it's you," Sebastian said, holding a trembling Kurt tight against him. "You took so long I was concerned that some homeless guy was going to find that key, and then this…" Sebastian gestured with one hand around the room, "could have gotten awkward."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, leaning up to kiss Sebastian on the cheek, along his jaw, skirting away from his mouth, knowing the moment Sebastian's lips met his he'd forget everything he wanted to say. "I'm so so sorry."

"What in the world are you sorry for?" Sebastian asked, laughing at Kurt's urgent and numerous pecks around his face.

"I didn't think," Kurt said, "that just because Valentine's Day means nothing to me that maybe it meant something to you." Kurt stopped kissing Sebastian to look into his startled eyes. "I am the _worst_ boyfriend ever."

Sebastian shook his head, lifting Kurt up and wrapping his boyfriend's legs around his waist. He carried Kurt into the bedroom, getting his fill of Kurt in his arms now that he had the chance.

"You are _not_ the worst boyfriend ever," Sebastian said, emphasizing his words with slow, sensual kisses. "You're absolutely right. We don't need a day to dictate how or when we show our love for each other." Sebastian nibbled Kurt's lower lip, and then tossed him on the bed. Kurt dropped out of Sebastian's arms with a yelp. "I just chose to do it today…" Sebastian crawled over Kurt's body, straddling his hips, trapping Kurt beneath him. "With roses…and presents…and clearance chocolate…"

"What?" Kurt chuckled into Sebastian's mouth. Sebastian reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a brown bottle, presenting it to Kurt the way a waiter would a vintage wine. Kurt took the bottle, noting with a smile the red clearance sticker in the upper corner. He didn't need to read the label, however, to know what it was – Magic Shell Chocolate Syrup.

Kurt looked up at Sebastian, eyes wide as Sebastian slipped open the tie at his waist and dropped the robe, gloriously naked underneath.

"I thought we could have dessert first," Sebastian said with a devilish grin. He popped the lid on the bottle in Kurt's hands. "If you're stumped where to begin, I could give you a suggestion."


End file.
